


A Good Sport

by SusanaR



Series: Desperate Hours Alternative Universe G version (DH AU G) [11]
Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Brothers, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Halloween, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-17 00:18:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusanaR/pseuds/SusanaR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aragorn gets unexpected company, on the second to last night of the Harvest Festival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Sport

The soothing sounds of a hearth fire crackled and popped in the grate of the King's Study. Between that, and the spicy scents of Eruhantale still perfuming the air, Aragorn found himself more prone to day-dreaming than to actually making progress wading through the winter preparedness reports littering his desk. 

After all, even the King deserved a bit of a break on the second night of the Harvest festival, Aragorn thought to himself. Then he took a moment to admire the softly flickering flames, and the full moon above the windows leading out to the balcony of the King's House. Having a young son made the usual Harvest Festival traditions seem magical and wonderful again. But to enjoy the last day of the autumn thanksgiving with a clear conscience, Aragorn would have to at least get through the scrolls from the last three northern fiefdoms. 

The quiet 'snick' of the door opening and closing provided a welcome distraction. Aragorn looked up and gave his Steward a quizzical smile. He had not expected to see Faramir again this eve. Of late, the Steward of Gondor had been careful to give Aragorn, Arwen, and Eldarion the chance to enjoy some time alone in the evenings, so that they could feel like a normal family. Faramir did not seem to understand that the King, Queen and young Crown Prince considered Faramir and his pregnant wife to be a PART of their family. 

"By all means, sit." Aragorn offered, bewildered but pleased by the late night visit of his fox-haired friend. 

Faramir shrugged, smiling back. "It was too quiet in our rooms, what with Eowyn already abed." 

"Well, you are always welcome here." The King said. Faramir sighed gratefully, and reached for a scroll. Aragorn smacked his hand, and offered him a book instead. 

"Spooky Stories of Eruhantale in Lost Numenor?" Faramir questioned, reading the title with a baffled grin. 

"It is Eldarion's favorite." Aragorn explained wryly, "And I somehow suspect that you've already worked harder than I would have liked today. You are still recovering from having almost blown yourself up along with that battalion of Easterlings, if you will recall." 

"I WAS there." Faramir retorted, equally wry, and with a half-smile. That shy, sneaky half-smile, the one that made Aragorn either want to hug the younger man or shake him, adorning just the left side of his face. 

"Sit and read about the wolf-man of the north woods of Forostar, Faramir." The King ordered, dry, fond amusement in his tone.

Faramir laughed, but did as he was told. Which was strange, but pleasant. Aragorn considered his young friend with another baffled smile for a few moments, then turned back to the mind-numbing-but important-scrolls. With Faramir there to answer questions and offer humorous commentary, the work moved faster. 

After maybe an hour, their companionable silence was disturbed. First by a quiet, extremely annoyed Legolas, through the balcony. And then by a not-so-quiet but quite menacing Eomer stomping through the door. 

Faramir subtly moved his comfortable armchair closer to Aragorn. The King coughed to stifle a chuckle, putting one and two together, and coming up with an answer as to why Eomer and Legolas had been dressed as a fine chestnut horse and a long-bearded dwarf, respectively, during the evening's impromptu garden party. 

It WAS part of Harvest Festival tradition for children to dress as their ancestors or in a costume reflecting their heritage or interests; it was NOT customary for adults to do so. Legolas and Eomer had set themselves up for more than their fair share of odd looks and ribbing, for their...unusual... sartorial choices. Although Eldarion, his friend Veantur, and the other children had been quite thrilled, Aragorn was fairly sure that had not been the inspiration for their comical costumes. 

But with the two of them glaring daggers at Faramir, it was not hard to guess who, exactly, had misled the elven prince and the King of Rohan as to the Harvest Festival customs of modern Gondor. 

"Yes?" Aragorn mildly asked the irritated duo, raising a skeptical eyebrow in imitation of his foster-father. 

"Aragorn!" Legolas demanded, almost stomping a foot in pique. "You KNOW what he did!" 

Faramir did a poor job of stifling a laugh. Eomer crossed his arms and said something very insulting in Rohirric to his only brother-by-marriage. 

"Oh, do be a good sport, both of you." Aragorn chided them. "Did Faramir take against either of you for that foolery two midsummers ago?" 

"Yes!" Legolas snapped, "He had the both of us - well, Gimli and I - convinced that trying to jump OVER fireflies into a body of water was a favored summer pastime in Ithlilien!" 

Aragorn moved his chiding glance to Faramir. His Steward continued to do a very poor job of looking contrite, barely managing to hide another smug smile by ducking his head. 

"Yes, well, you DID start this, Legolas." Aragorn pointed out, "And I'm most certainly not going to sit by and watch the two of you haul Faramir out to do...whatever, to him." 

"Coat him with maple syrup and then cover him with feathers." Eomer supplied with a glare, although the corners of his lips had started to twitch into a smile. "He tried to convince me to wear a chicken costume, tonight." 

"We'd toss him into a fountain, afterward." Legolas offered hopefully. 

Coughing to hide another chuckle, the King shook his head regretfully. "No, I'm afraid that I don't want my favorite recovering patient to get chilled and wet tonight. Another time, perhaps." 

Eomer and Legolas left them with mock-anger, and cheerful-but-all-too-real threats directed at Faramir. The Steward sighed with relief as they left the room. 

"You are going to have to face them tomorrow, when I'm not around to save you." Aragorn pointed out fondly. 

"Yes." Faramir agreed, that soft half-smile adorning his face again, "But I'll have Eowyn with me, then."


End file.
